


A Way of Loving

by Crikeyack



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Abuse Denial, Abusive Mother, Angst, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Drama, Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, One Shot, Overworking, Physical Abuse, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts, Tragedy, Young Kaneki Ken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crikeyack/pseuds/Crikeyack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She truly loved me." He had no doubt about that. "She was just not really good at showing it."<br/>A one-shot that tells the story of a mother's affection towards her child.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Way of Loving

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I love Ishida-sensei.

At first, he was standing behind her, only asking for dinner with a pleading voice.

**Mommy?**

There was nothing left in the pantry.

**Mom?**

And his tummy hurt so much.

**Mom, I'm hungry...**

All he wanted was to get something to eat.

**Mommy?**

But then, he was cowering on the ground, trying somehow to get away from her grasp.

**I'm sorry mom!**

Probably did he went a little too far, insisting the way he did. He should not have done that. His mother had other things to do than feed him.

_Mommy is a very kind person. She's making every effort to support the ones she loves._

Her hands were so big and rough.

_Just like a man's. Maybe just like daddy's hands?_

Most of the time, she was cautious not to hit him anywhere else than in the stomach, or in the back.

_She still cares for me._

Most of the time, she was cautious.

_I love my mom._

But some other times, she was not.

_It's not her fault. She's been exerting herself too much at work._

He had to be punished, bothering his mother like that. Frankly, he could have waited tomorrow morning to eat, or any other day, instead of asking for food while she was working so hard. Wasn't she tired enough? Besides, it had only been one day since holidays had begun. One day since he had last eaten. It could have been way worse.

_I've always been a troublesome boy._

He was always asking for childish things. Although he had long stopped provoking her attention on every opportunity, wanting to go to the park with her, wanting to know how to read a kanji, he still was asking for childish things. He was, undoubtedly. Otherwise, she would not get mad so often.

_It's not her fault. She's making every effort to help her sister out._

Her outbursts of anger were only going from bad to worse with each passing day.

_It's not her fault. I should be able to take care of myself._

And it meant little whether he was hungry or not.

_I wish she were a bit happier._

He could do it. He could take care of himself. He had to.

_I wish she were proud of me._

He would never annoy her again.

_I wish she would say nice things to me._

And then, maybe... Maybe she would be a little nicer.

_I wish she would pay more attention to me._

But she always hated to look at him.

_Mom is so overwhelmed these days._

And even when she did look at him, it did not make him feel protected.

_It's never gone._

She could turn back into a monster at any moment, blinded by hate and frustration.

_I can't hate mom._

The sun had already set a long time ago.

_But I hate it when it's dark outside._

Fear was forcing him to keep his eyes tightly shut.

_I hate it when I don't know where it's going to hit next._

He did not want to see her gaze full of rage.

_I hate it when I can't do anything._

The room was barely lit.

_Nobody's here to see._

Except for the muffled cries and the constant claps, everything was quiet.

_Nobody's here to hear._

It seemed almost as if it was endless.

_Nobody's here to stop her._

It seemed almost as if none of this was happening.

_Nobody'll never know._

It seemed almost as if he was not even there.

_Nobody'll ever care._

He was all alone.

_Does mommy love me?_

It would never stop.

_Do I love her?_

The pain from his belly was deepening with every impact.

_My insides are going to get out._

He had to hold it back, no matter what.

_My insides are going to get out._

If he did not, he would make her blow up so much more.

_My insides are going to get out._

If he did not, he would feel even more pain.

_Everything's gonna burst._

He tried to protect the aching region as best he could with his arms.

_I don't want to make her angry._

But his hands were not of any help.

_My insides won't get out._

The gesture may even have irritated her more, judging by the sudden outbreak of violence of the hits.

_I don't want to make her angry._

He had trouble breathing properly. He thought that it was due to the blows raining down on him.

_My insides won't get out._

Holding it back was becoming increasingly difficult.

_I don't want to make her angry._

At some point, the young boy knew, however, that he would not be able to fight it very much longer.

_My insides won't get out._

His insides were going to get out.

_I don't want to make her angry._

The mother backed away as soon as she realized what was coming.

_My insides won't get out._

A few gasps, a convulsion, a faint cry, and stomach acids splattered on the ground.

_What a repulsive child..._

Without being able to restrain himself, the pressing need of oxygen made him choke on his own regurgitation. Sore whines escaped from his mouth, tears blending with his gastric puddle.

_What a pitiful sight..._

She winced in disgust while watching the way the contents of her son's stomach had emptied and splashed in front of him.

_What a shame..._

He saw the look.

_I wish she weren't staring at me with those eyes._

While a succession of painful coughs was unceasingly shaking his frail body, he slowly started to crawl away from the sloppy mess he had done. He felt guilty. He should have been able to hold it back.

_I wish she would tell me that everything's going to be alright._

The desperate urge to be comforted overflowed him, along with the frantic need to be reassured, forgiven, cuddled... And, most of all, he wanted to feel cherished. He wanted to feel loved.

_I wish she took me in her arms._

He truly craved that.

_But her hands are too harsh._

In spite of this, he made a movement to reach his mother's feet, standing a few centimeters away from him. Probably did he act unconsciously. His yearning for tenderness had been manifestly stronger than him, considering that he was already taking one of her legs in a frenzied embrace.

_What a disgraceful son..._

She glared at him. An expression of contempt nearly appeared on her face at the sight of her son, desperately clutching her while lying lamentably on the floor. How reckless and foolish.

_Help him._

Quiet sobs were continually escaping from his mouth as he was trying to repress them. From time to time, some were noisier than others.

_Help him._

Regardless his constant shudders of fear, in conflict with his behavior, he did not even risk loosening his grip once.

_Help him._

She could feel his irregular breathing barely touching her skin. She could feel his silent tears falling on her bare feet. She could feel his little body shivering against her leg.

_Help him!_

How dared he? He had no right! He had no right to act like such a miserable victim! She was the one suffering here! How could not he see her pain? How could not he understand her woe? She had always been putting others first! She had always sacrificed her own needs for other people's good! Spending much of her time working to support herself, him and her sister... Making sure to get enough money to keep a shelter, to have food, to have electricity, to have running water... Working outside, working at home, working in dreams, working in nightmares, working, working, working! Working until exhaustion... And what did she get in return? Nothing! Nothing at all! Nothing apart from a whining kid!

**You stupid child!**

Crack.

She had lost control.

Thud.

It's over.

The young boy's body became completely limp as it hit the wooden floor.

_It's over._

A few drops of blood had spurted from his head.

_It's over._

No sound was coming from him anymore.

_It's over._

An oppressive silence immediately began to fill the room.

_It's over._

She remained motionless, facing with dread the result of her explosion.

_It's over._

The impact of his skull striking the corner of the wall must have been the cause of his unresponsiveness.

_It's over._

At that moment, she knew. She knew that she had gone too far. And she knew that she would have to pay for what she had done.

_It's over._

Somewhere, she had always known that, if she kept this up, it would happen, one day or another. But still, she had ignored it. She had ignored his cries. She had ignored the troubling dark color of his ejection. She had ignored it all. And now, he was lying like a corpse on the ground.

_It's over._

Nothing mattered anymore. She had no choice but to give it all up. She had no longer the strength to go on.

_It's over._

She had enough of this constant tiredness. Of this constant impulsiveness.

_It's all over._

Calmly, she left her son's side for a few minutes, to return with a serene expression put on her face. Perhaps had she been ready for this for quite a while now. Perhaps had she been looking forward to this time. The time where she would cross the line. The time where she would have to face the consequences of her acts if she decided to carry on living.

_Finally._

The time where she would have to flee far away from this exhausting and useless existence.

_Finally._

Slowly, she moved forward to reach her son. There, she sat and put him on her lap while holding his body in her arms.

_Finally._

Although her vision was progressively becoming blurry and unfocused, she still could see how much he had the same features as his.

_Finally._

A peaceful smile soon appeared on her face.

_Finally._

When her head felt too heavy to keep it upright, she just buried it in her son's chest, taking him in a caring embrace at the same time. One of the few. And the last one.

_Finally._

The last one.

_Finally._

In a way, holding her little boy as when he was a baby made her feel immensely relieved.

_Everything's over now._

In the distance, the lugubrious whistling of the sirens was making its gloomy entrance, resonating ominously into the night.

_Things just went wrong too many times._

Her son would live. And she was going in hell to expiate for her sins.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'd planned to write about the 53rd chapter's revelation for some time now. So here it is!  
> Feel free to leave me a review, and do not hesitate to tell me any mistakes I may have done, I'm still learning :)


End file.
